“You cook better than Allie,” I said.
She chewed her corn cake.
“ ’Course, so do I,” I said.
She took another small bite. She sat straight in the chair with her feet flat on the floor and her knees together.
“Your mother teach you to cook?” I said.
I wasn’t looking at her, so I didn’t know if she nodded. I proceeded as if she had.
“Did a good job,” I said. “Taught you how to sit like a lady, too.”
I glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead.
“Hard now,” I said. “That she’s having so much trouble. Hard for you. Hard for her.”
Laurel was silent. Up the street a wagon pulled up outside of Pike’s Palace. The driver jumped down and tied up at the rail outside. There was a piano and a piano bench on the back of the wagon. In a minute Brother Percival came around the corner with Allie. Behind them came Choctaw Brown. Percival helped Allie into the wagon and she began to play loudly, some sort of unrecognizable church music. He climbed in beside her and rested his elbow on the piano. A few early drunks wandered out of the Palace and stared at the wagon. Virgil rode around the corner of Sixth Street and came down behind them and stopped and sat his horse to listen.
“Pike’s Palace,” Percival bellowed. “A palace of debauchery, a stench of whores and poisonous whiskey, a stench of sin, like rotting flesh, odious to God and to all who love Him.”
Allie played some more. Choctaw leaned against the wall next to the door of Pike’s Palace and looked faintly amused. Pike made no appearance. After a while, Percival stopped shouting. Allie stopped playing. They climbed down from the wagon and headed up Fifth Street with Choctaw trailing behind them. The wagon driver untied from the rail and climbed up on his wagon and drove back down Fifth Street. Virgil turned his horse and walked him down the street toward us.
I looked at Laurel.
“Allie don’t play the piano so good, either,” I said.
Laurel nodded almost vigorously.
When Virgil arrived and dismounted, Laurel jumped up and went in and got him some coffee.
“Thank you,” Virgil said. “You sit in the chair, Laurel.”
She shook her head. Virgil nodded as if to himself.
“There’s a chair beside my desk,” he said to Laurel. “Would you go get it and bring it out here?”
She nodded.
When she came out with it, Virgil said, “Put it there, between my chair and Everett.”
She did.
Virgil sat in the chair she’d vacated for him. He looked at Laurel and pointed at the chair she’d just brought out.
“Now sit in it,” he said to her.
She stared at him. Then she sat down between us.
52
“BIG DOINGS up at the Palace,” Virgil said.
I nodded.
“Surprising,” I said.
“Uh-huh,” Virgil said. “Kinda thought there was something going on between Percival and Pike.”
“Looks like there is, but it ain’t what we thought,” I said.
“Or it was what we thought, and now it ain’t,” Virgil said.
“Choctaw’s still trailing along,” I said.
“Yep.”
I watched a cluster of sparrows fluttering around the dried horse manure in the street. Virgil drank his coffee. A fancy little carriage went down the street past us, pulled by a sorrel horse with a black mane and tail. The sparrows flew up as it went by and settled directly back to breakfast when it was gone.
Laurel leaned over and pulled at Virgil’s sleeve. He put his head down, and she whispered to him. He nodded. She whispered some more. He nodded again and whispered to her. She looked at me for a moment. Then she nodded.
“Laurel says Pike and Percival had a big argument. I asked her if I could tell you about it, and she said yes.”
“Thank you, Laurel,” I said.
“Percival and Pike got together pretty often, Laurel says. Pike would come over to the compound, and he and Percival would have a drink together in Percival’s office, and they’d talk awhile…”
Virgil looked at Laurel.
“Can I tell the next part?” he said.
Laurel looked at me silently for a moment, then nodded her head.
“Then Pike would visit with Mary Beth.”
Laurel was watching me. There wasn’t anything to say. I nodded and looked at her and smiled. She kept looking at me.
“Just before Laurel moved in with Allie and me,” Virgil said, “Pike came over, they went to the office, and after a while there was a lot of yelling and the door yanked open and Pike came out. He said a bad word to Percival, and Percival says, ‘My kingdom is not of this earth.’ ”
He looked at Laurel again.
“That right, Laurel?”
She nodded.
“ ‘ My kingdom is not of this earth,’ ” Virgil said.
I shrugged.
“Taking this God thing pretty serious,” I said.
“Probably more than Pike does,” Virgil said.
“Probably,” I said.
“And Pike speaks another bad word,” Virgil said. “And walks off without visiting Mary Beth.”
“And now Percival is outside his place preaching against him,” I said.
“Worked on the other saloons,” Virgil said.
“I kinda thought that was the deal,” I said. “Percival closes down all the other saloons. Pike gets all the business.”
“I kinda thought that, too,” Virgil said.
“And Choctaw?” I said.
“Kinda thought he was Pike’s man,” Virgil said. “Keeping an eye on Percival.”
“Or keeping somebody from killing him while he put them out of business for Pike,” I said.
“Job might be changing,” Virgil said.
“Might.”
“Guess we’ll see,” Virgil said.
“We got a side in this?” I said.
“Depends on what this is,” Virgil said.
“Say this is some sort of battle between Pike and Percival,” I said.
“Well,” Virgil said. “We the law.”
“Yeah, and one law knows a lot more about this than the other law,” I said. “Why I’m asking.”
“Let’s await developments,” Virgil said.
He stood.
“Can’t sit here all day,” he said.
He took his coffee cup and walked into the office. Laurel stood up at once and walked in behind him. I looked after them and smiled.
I was good enough only when Virgil wasn’t around… sorta like with Allie.
53
THE PIANO MOUNTED on the wagon expanded Allie’s horizon. She’d taken to driving it herself and parking at every hitching post in town. She’d climb back, sit on the piano bench, and play hymns and sing by herself, without Percival. Today she was doing it right across from the sheriff’s office.
“That’s a painful noise,” Virgil said.
“Can’t you do something ’bout it?” I said to Virgil.
“Keeps her from cooking,” Virgil said.
We were sitting on the porch, Virgil, Laurel, and me.
“Yes,” I said. “I s’pose it does.”
I looked at Laurel and put my fingers in my ears. She dropped her head, and in a moment, put her fingers in her ears, and looked cautiously up to see if I was looking. I smiled at her. She didn’t smile back, but she didn’t look away.
People stopped as they passed her and listened. I suspected it was in disbelief. Between hymns she climbed down with a collection plate and passed it among them. If they gave her anything she would say, “God bless you.” Then she climbed back up on the wagon and played some more and sang some more. I couldn’t tell if it was the same hymns or new ones. They were loud but unvaried. After a while, when no more people came to the wagon, she loosed the team from its hitching post, got back in the wagon seat, waved at us across the street, and drove to a new location.
“You think she believes all this stuff?” I said to Virgil.
“I never quite understood Allie,” Virgil said.
“And now you do?” I said.